Bitter Memories
by MaximilianSkott
Summary: Summary: When cleaning her room, Liz runs across an old scrap book with old memories; some good, but some bad, many painful. She leaves the manor to clear her head, and finds an unlikely person to confide in. Set the evening after her, Kid, and Patty failed to stop the Demon Sword.
1. Chapter 1

Before we begin, please accept my apology for taking nearly two months to update this story. I could say the reasons for why this is, but in all honesty they feel like excuses to me. And two, this is more or less the story, the next update after this will be polishing up the grammar and structure. I might change chapter three around a bit though because it feels out of place at times, or perhaps that me being picky. Anyhow, hope y'all enjoy the story.

Chapter One

"Where you going Kid," Liz asked as Kid started to walk towards the doors of the DWMA. Without turning around, he answered back, "There is something important that I need to ask my father. You two head back to the Gallows and get some rest." As soon as the last of the words left his mouth he had disappeared into the Academy. Liz let out a long, exasperated yawn as she turned towards her younger sister, who was currently sitting on the ground and doodling on a notepad.

[Where the heck did she get from? Did she have that thing the entire time we were on that assignment,] Liz thought to herself as she watched her little sister, who was currently off in her own little world.

"Prepare for anything I guess," she said quietly to herself as she crouched down by her younger sibling to get a good look at what she was drawing. From what she could tell, it was a giraffe. Liz shook her head and smiled before placing her hand on Patty's shoulder.

"Alright space cadet, lets head on home. It's been way too long of a day and I need a break from all the crazy that's been going on," Liz said gently to her little sister. Having been broken out of her trance, Patty turned towards her sister and nodded her head in agreement. She jumped up to her feet and took off towards the Manor at a full sprint. However, she stopped after about sixty meters and turned around to shout at Liz.

"Come on Sis, I'll race you back home!" She yelled before taking off again at a full clip. Liz just looked on at the scene, her mouth hanging open in amazement.

"Where the hell does she get all her energy from? I swear that girl ain't human," She said to herself as she started to make her way to the manor at a much more reasonable pace.

Later that night

"How did I let it get this bad," Liz asked no one in particular. She was in the process of cleaning her room, which was long overdue for some tidying up. When the sisters moved to the manor with Kid and his father they were given their own rooms. This was something of a Godsend for Elizabeth, because it finally gave her a place that allowed her some peace and quiet from the insanity that seem to dominate her life, due in no small part to her little sister. It was also the first time in her life where she didn't have share a room or a bed with her sister, to which she was grateful for. Not because she disliked her sister (far from it really) but because it gave her a little place in the world that she could retreat to when she wanted to be alone. Also, it's a great indicator of who is the tidier sibling, and it certainly isn't Liz. Her organization is the based around the time tested pile system, which is where everything; from books to clothes, is arranged into separate piles around the room. Up until recently, it was a highly effective system for Liz because she could just roll out of bed and grab everything that she needed for the day as she pasted by each pile, which meant she would get to the bathroom before the other two were even up. Getting there before the Kid or Patty is the main objective in the morning, because either of them could tie up the bathroom for hours. With Kid it's a crapshoot. He could be in there for only a few minutes or all morning, depending on how long it took to ensure everything was in "prefect order" and symmetrical. And if Patty goes first, may as well say good bye to a hot shower. She uses up every last bit of hot water, even if she is only in there for five lousy minutes (no one, including Lord Death, could explain how she accomplished that feat.) Also she is a bit lazy when it comes to housework, so the pile system was a perfect fit. It only recently became a problem when Kid came into her room one day to borrow something and promptly had one of his spaz-seizure-panic attacks at the sight of the place. So she put cleaning her room at the top of her to-do-list. Anyhow, after tying off the third bag of clothes she was finally able to see the majority of her floor, to which she decided to celebrate by taking a break. Besides, she was curious about the little book that she found earlier, which was lying on the bed where Liz had tossed it. It was an old, battered little tome, light brown in color with a bent spine and cracks all over the cover. She walked over to her bed and sat on the edge, reaching to her right to grab the book. When she picked it up, the first thing she notice that it felt as worn as it looked, as if it would fall apart if she so much as glare at it.

"This old thing feels familiar," She said to herself as she carefully flipped it open to the first page, where she was greeted by a picture of two small girls, one slightly larger than the other, playing on a swing set, looking like they were having the time of their young lives. They were around the ages of six and three, both with light blonde hair and deep ocean blue eyes.

[I remember this,] Liz thought to herself as a smile started to form on her face, [this is when me and Patty were still growing up in the projects.] She flipped the page over to find another picture of the two young girls, who were sitting on a worn-out carpeted floor and coloring away in coloring books, or that what it appeared to be at least. Below that picture was another, this time of the two young sisters standing in front of a wall that was half white and half light blue, holding paint brushes and smiling brightly, their clothes and faces coated with light blue paint. On the page besides that was a picture of a young woman in her early twenties, covered in about as much paint as the two sisters and smiling just as brightly. She was a tall and skinny woman, with long, fair brown hair and icy blue eyes that looked as if they could pierce the soul. Other than that, she looked like an older version of Liz, or more appropriately, Liz looked like a younger version of the woman in the picture. Liz glared at the woman, almost as if she was trying to stare her down. She promptly closed the old photo album shut and tossed it behind her, the book hitting the bed with a soft thud.

[Great, that's the last thing I needed today: being reminded that I'm related to that whore,] Liz thought bitterly to herself as she resumed cleaning her room. Even though Liz wasn't the kindest or most patient person around (that title would most likely go to her friend Tsubaki) she still considered herself to be fairly even tempered (it's practically a prerequisite for dealing with her sister and Kid.) But, if there was one topic that could send her into a near homicidal fury, it was the mere mention of her mother. After all, she abandoned her and Patty for her addiction, and was the primary reason why the sisters turned into the infamous "Demons of Brooklyn." Shaking her head, she pushed the thought of her mother as far away into the depths of her mind as she could, figuring there was little sense in dwelling what she couldn't change. It was of little use though, because her mind would drift back to thoughts of the past and the picture in the photo book that captured those brief moments from long ago. Only after a few minutes, Liz halted the cleaning process again and walked over to the head of the bed to grab the battered little book to thumb through it once more. With each turn of a page, she felt both a wave of nostalgia and a growing pit of rage in her stomach. There were pictures of the sisters and their mother in various situation; from Liz's first day of school (she looked so scared) to the day Patty was brought home from the hospital and all points in between. She continued to flip through the pages until she reached a picture that had all three of them in it. There was nothing notably remarkable about the photo; the woman and her daughters were gathered around a small table, bundled in winter wear. The only noticeable different compared to all the other pictures, besides the girls progressively aging, is the apparent physical health of the young woman. Her face was sunken in and her skin was a sickly shade of ash grey. Liz let out a small sigh.

"I still can't believe how fast she changed. From the most beautiful call girl in all of Brooklyn to a ghost in a few short years. How did you let it get that bad?" She asked the picture as she felt a hot, stinging sensation building up behind her eyes. She hated her mother for many things; for deciding an addiction was more important to her than her daughters, for lying to them, but most of all for abandoning them. She felt the white hot anger and disgust building in her stomach towards the vile woman in the picture, but at the same time a small sense of pity. Because there was a time when Liz truly loved her, back when she was actually a good mother, or as good as one could be in a situation like theirs. Given their mother's occupation they were always in a perpetual state of poverty. But they made do with what they had, and for the most part they were a happy little family. A bit dysfunctional perhaps, but happy none the less. Then one day, she up and walked away from it all. Liz had no idea where she went or why she did it, only remembering the last thing her mother said to her, which was to take care of her little sister. The sensation behind her eyes started to intensify, and before long hot tears ran silently down her face. The last seven years of her life, the constant hell of struggling to survive while raising her little sister, and almost dying in a shootout with a local crime lord's gang, were all because of this woman walking out on the both of them.

"I need to get a shower," she said as she snapped the album shut, tossing it towards the back of the room. She walked towards her dresser and pulled out a fresh set of cloths. She moved towards the door, where her duster was hanging. She snatched it of the hanger, and proceeded to leave her room for the bathroom. She needed to clear her head, and to get away from everyone for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**About an hour later**

"I'm sorry miss, but you need to be at least twenty-one to purchase that," the old man behind the counter said to her in a tired, matter of fact kind of way. Liz, concealing a scowl, flipped over her ID to show the insignia of Lord Death.

"I'm here on official business for Lord Death. He asked me to buy this for him," she said, doing her best to keep calm and suppressing the urge to drag the old man from behind the counter. He looked at the insignia carefully, before shooting her a questioning stare.

"Yep, this is legit. But why did Lord Death want cheap whiskey? He usually prefers top shelf sake," the old man stated, motioning towards some very pricy looking bottles on the top of the shelf behind him.

"Look, I don't know, I didn't ask," she said, not even bothering to conceal her irritation now, "All I know is that he hasn't had a pleasant evening and wants something that will get him good and buzzed so he can put today behind him." The old man looked puzzled by that last statement.

"Wait, I thought he couldn't feel the effects of alcohol due to him being a Reaper and all. Last time I remember, he said he drank for the taste of it," the old man said, more to himself than to Liz though. The puzzled look on his face suggested that he was trying to figure out the question of the night; could Lord Death actually get hammered, and what would he be like once he was. However, Liz wasn't in the mood for the old man to piece together that particular mystery. She placed both of her hands on the table and slightly bent forward so that she was eye level with the old man, and shot a glare his way. It took the old man a moment to snap out of his daydreaming about an inebriated Reaper, and when he came to he saw a pair of eyes that looked like an enraged ocean that was trying to claim its next victim.

"Pay attention old timer, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once. Lord Death has had a really, really bad day and he _asked me_ to come down to _your store_ to buy this. If I walk out of here empty handed, I can guarantee the next customer to walk through those doors will be one _pissed off reaper," _she said coldly, never taking her eyes off the now thoroughly frighten old man. She paused for a moment to let the words sink in before inching her face closer to the old man's, her eyes locked on to his. Sweat beads started to break out on his face, the fear he displayed suggesting that he was already staring death in face, and he wasn't ready to face it. This went on for a moment longer before Liz continued.

"You already look like you're knocking on death's door. Do you really want Death to knock on yours?" Liz said, her tone matching her eyes. The old man's face lost what little color it had left in it, as he tired stuttered out, "Th-th-tha-that will b-be fi-fifteen eighty-se-seven, p-p-ple," Before he could get the last of the words out of his mouth, Liz had already slammed a twenty on the counter, snatched the bottle off the counter, and walked out the door. Once outside, she slid the bottle into an interior pocket of the duster and started walking to a place where she knew she could be alone with her thoughts… No, it's more like to escape her thoughts. There were many places she wishes she could be, but in her head was not one of them. As she was walking towards her destination, her mind started to wander to the dark, depressing realm she had visited earlier that night. Was she really as bad as her mother, or maybe even worse? Her mother may have abandoned her and Patty, but she wasn't the one responsible for her daughters almost turning into kishins, at least not directly. No, that would be Elizabeth's doing. At first she tried to convince herself that she did what she had to do to survive. That everything she did was the best decision for Patty and her. But, looking back on it now, all she did was delude herself. Instead of trying to find a way out of the life on streets she fully embraced it. It no longer became about surviving, it was now an opportunity to thrive, and if a few people got hurt in the process, well that was only a small price that she didn't have to pay. In the end, the sisters almost ended up as another statistic in the DWMA's record for what they done, for what she had done. Her little sister followed every order that she gave and trusted every decision her big sis made, always certain that she keep her little sis's best interests at heart. And Liz almost cost Patty her very soul, and if Kid didn't show up at the last minute they would have been gunned down, just a couple more kids lost to the streets. Hell, Liz was convinced that the only reason Kid was there in the first place was because of the rampage that she and Patty were on, and if it wasn't for Kid's absolute obsession for all thing symmetrical he would have probably ended the sisters there himself. Granted, it worked out in the end for the her and Patty, but it wasn't like she knew that the son of the Grim Reaper would pluck the both of them out of Brooklyn and into a new life where they didn't have to put a gun to someone's head for dinner. So maybe Elizabeth and her mother weren't that different; they both ended up betraying the ones they loved. One left her kids to a world that didn't care if they lived or died, and the other took a hellish path that almost cost her and her sister everything. She tried to shake her thoughts as best she could, but it was to no avail.

"And this is why I picked up this little problem solver," she said to herself in a bitterly satisfy kind of way, as she rounded the corner to a small basketball court, which was completely void of any kind of activity. Giving the area a quick look around to make sure no one was there; she leaned back against a wall and slid down to the concrete. Once she got herself situated on the ground she reached into one of the interior pockets of her duster to pull out the bottle of alcohol. She twisted the top off as quickly as the laws of physics would allow her and took a large swig out of the bottle, a decision she would regret almost instantly. It had been a long while since she had any type of booze to drink, let alone the type whose sole purpose was to get the drinker blind drunk. She finally managed to choke it down, trying her best not to gag as she felt it slide down her throat. Her entire body shook in protest to having to ingest the disgusting liquid, to which Liz could only chuckle.

"Heh, I remember handling this crap better a long while back. Guess I'm becoming a light weight," Liz said to herself as she sat the bottle down. She proceeded to bring her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, looking upwards at the lonely night sky. There were no stars out tonight; only the smiling face of the moon was visible. She felt that the moon was looking right down on here, with a smirk on its face that more or less said, 'you screwed up kid.' She could only shake her head at the thought as she reached for the bottle again.

"Yeah, I know I screwed up you smiling bastard," she said to herself before taking another drink out of the bottle. She placed the bottle at her side before resuming her half hugging, half up-right fetal position. She leaned her head back against the stone wall and continued to stare up into the night; maybe looking for an answer, maybe trying to lose herself for just a little while, perhaps both.

"Hell of a time to start drinking cowgirl," came a sing-song from somewhere close by, catching Liz completely by surprise, causing her to jump to her feet and clutch the bottle in a defensive manner. She didn't know where the voice came from or who it belonged, but the moment they got close to her she planned to smash the bottle right over their head. She tensed up as she scanned the darkness for even a trace of the stranger, and then she heard a laugh come from right above her head.

"Relax, I don't plan on fighting ya," said the stranger as Liz turned around to find out who it was. Leaning against the guardrail was the right hand man of Lord Death himself; Spirit Albarn, the Death Scythe. Like a deer caught in the headlights, she froze to the spot, unsure of what to do next. Why she was struggling to plan out her next action, Spirit let out a chuckle before leaping over the rails, landing a few feet in front of her.

"Besides, I think you would kick my ass up and down this court if I did try to fight ya," he said, before letting out a groan of pain. "Damn, I must be getting old. I remember making that jump just fine before," he said as he reached down to rub his knees. Liz still stood there, dumbfounded, trying to think of what to say or do next.

"I ain't doing anything wrong!" she finally blurted out, instantly regretting what she had just said. Spirit looked right at her, his face falling flat.

"So says the teenager out past curfew swinging a bottle of booze around," he said monotonously. Liz just shrugged her shoulders at this, saying, "Hey, at least I'm not out hurting anybody."

"Physically, no," he said as a small smile started to spread along his face, "but I'm not too sure about mentally. I was just at the local liquor store and the strangest thing happen. The shop keeper took one good look at me and ducked behind the counter, screaming his head off, ranting about how he was told to keep the change and that he didn't want death knocking on his door. After I got him to calm down, he told me that a blonde girl in a long coat tried to purchase some of the hard and cheap stuff for Lord Death, and that she said if he didn't sell it to her that the next customer to come through those doors would be one pissed off reaper," he paused for a moment, his facial features mimicking that of a cat that was toying with its prey. He was waiting for Liz to respond, but it would seem that she could only communicate in half-hearted, shifting motions.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" he finally asked, knowing full well what the answer already was. Liz dropped her head down and let out a deep sigh, realizing that she was going to get chewed out big time by for this. [Well, this puts the cap on a truly shitty evening. Might as well get it over with now,] she thought to herself as she looked back up at Spirit.

"So, how much trouble am I in right now?" she asked, managing a smile that says 'Welp, I'm screwed.' Spirit responded by pointing towards the bottle in Liz's hand. Getting the notion, she immediately handed the bottle over to him. He examined it for a moment, and then brought the bottle under his nose to get a whiff of it. The smell must have been a wee bit strong for him, because he shuddered a little from sniffing the contents. He examined the bottle a second time, before shrugging his shoulders and taking a big swig of the contents, a decision he regretted immediately. He shook his head side to side vigorously, the muscles in his neck tightening. After a few moments his head came to a halt, and he let out a noise that sounded halfway between nausea and relief.

"That. Was. Just. God awful. What the hell are you drinking, antiseptic?" he asked, the expression on his face still one of pure disgust. Liz, on the other hand, had a look of astonishment on her face, trying to process what had just happened. One moment she was bracing for a lecture, and now she was actively trying to give a reason for her choice in alcohol to the adult that caught her.

"Wha..well…um, I… it isn't…" she sputtered, trying to string a coherent sentence together. She stopped for a moment to compose herself, before asking, "Um, not that I'm complaining or anything, but why are you drinking my booze?"

"Because I wanted a drink," he said dryly, as if the answer should have been simple enough that he really shouldn't have to explain it, before continuing. "Besides, the store owner was locking up for the night after his near death experience. By the way, what did you say to that guy? Can't say that I've ever seen him that scared before, and considering who his regulars are you gotta figure the guy wouldn't spook easy."

"Eh, I've had a lot of practice," she said in a dismissive manner, returning to the spot on the wall and slid down to the ground. She looked up into the starless void once more, before turning her head to ask Spirit, "So what-cha doing here Death Scythe? I'd figure you'd be at the cathouse by now."

"Ya know, believe it or not I do have a life outside of that place," he said before walking over to the spot next to Liz and plopping down beside her, leaning back against the wall. After situating himself, he took another long swig from the bottle. He didn't have a tiny seizure like the last time, but he still shuddered noticeably after he took his drink.

"Here ya go," he said as he attempted to hand the bottle back to her. She looked at the bottle in his outstretched hand and then at him and back again trying to figure out what he was trying to do. She decided to take it back, considering he was offering, and proceeded to take a drink of it.

"So, what brings you out here?" Spirit asked. Not taking her eyes off the midnight sky, she simply replied with, "I wanted to be alone."

"That's not the only reason you're out here," Spirit replied, his eyes still fixated on the night. Maybe it was the way he said it, maybe it was what he had said, maybe it was the whiskey starting to take, or perhaps a combination of the three. Whatever the reason may have been, one fact was for certain, and that was that Liz was good and pissed. Jumping up to her feet, she stood right in front of Spirit and glared as evilly as she could.

"Shut the hell up!" she yelled at him, her body shaking in rage, "What makes you think you know anything about me, huh?! You just assume that I'm up to no good! Who in the hell asked you anyhow, you freakin pervert!" Spirit shifted his focus to the enraged teen after she had finished her rant, who was still shaking in absolute fury, looking like she would have killed Spirit right now if she had the opportunity to. Letting out a sigh, he replied.

"No one's accusing you of anything Elizabeth," he said, keeping his voice calm and steady, "But I know you didn't sneak out in the middle of the night to get smashed so you could be by yourself. You wanted to forget something. I don't know what it is you wanted to forget, but I've been around long enough to see when the past catches up with someone and they try to find the answer at the bottom of a bottle. If nothing else, you can trust me on that one. You could say that I'm a bit of an expert on the subject" Liz's fury seem to have dissipated; her body had cease its shaking and her gaze had soften a bit. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn't, because she knew he was right.

"Sorry," she muttered as she went back to where she was sitting along the wall. "Don't worry bout it," he said as he waved his hands and shook his head, "I was a teenager once too ya know. So what's on your mind?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered as she shook her head, returning to her spot on the wall once more. So silence fell between the pair, as the gazed off into the distance, the only interaction between the two was handing the bottle back and forth. After what seemed like an eternity, Liz finally broke the silence between them.

"I can't stop screwing up," she muttered softly. Spirit nodded to confirm that he caught what she said, and made a motion for her to continue. Liz toke a moment to think what to say next, biting her lower lip in the process.

"During our assignment, I was separated from Kid and Patty on a ghost ship by some creepy Dutch guy. The souls of everyone he had taken were trying to help me get back to my partners, this… little girl in particular. But ghosts scare the living hell outta me, so it was a struggle to get back to the others. By the time I got back to Kid and Patty, that kid with the black sword showed up and consumed all the souls on board." She finished, lowering her head into to conceal the tears that were welling up behind her eyes.

"So, what's that got to do with you screwing up? Sounds like it was out of your hands," he stated, taking a long, slow drink of the whiskey. Liz's head snapped up and she glared at Spirit again as the tears started to flow from her eyes.

"The hell it wasn't my fault! If I wasn't such a damn coward, we could have saved those souls! It's my fault that there's a roided up black dragon flying around now," she yelled, more at herself than at Spirit, the tears burning her eyes and face now. She stopped and took a moment to compose herself, wiping the tears from her eyes, before continuing, "the last thing that little girl said to me was that I was a coward." Spirit closed his eyes, looking deep in thought, thinking of what to say to the distraught teen.

"Yeah, I guess I can see how that is partially your fault," he said as he opened his eyes, "But Kid and Patty should have easily wiped the floor with that Dutch guy before you ever made it back. My guess is that they didn't fight until you got there, given how Kid feels about symmetry and all that. So it's more like a team effort of failure instead of just you screwing up." He paused, looking to see if what he had said had sunk in with Liz. She simply stared at him, waiting for a response. He handed her the bottle before speaking again.

"Besides, and as heartless as this may sound, but you're gonna have bad days like this. Sometimes innocents get hurt in the process. The only thing we can do is try our damnest to make sure that it doesn't happen. We would like to think we can save the world, but the world is a pretty big place, and we can't be everywhere at once, know what I mean?" He asked, hoping the metaphor helped her understand a little better. Liz turned her gaze away from him and towards the night sky, trying to find a response amongst the darkness.

"Do you remember when me and my sister popped up on the Academy's radar?" she asked as she handed the nearly empty bottle back to Spirit, who nodded in response. She paused for a moment, taking the time to work against the alcohol and her own general tiredness to form her next question.

"Do you know what the report on us was?" she asked as Spirit finished off the bottle. Once again he nodded in response.

"Yeah I know," he said as he started to turn the bottle absentmindedly in his hand. He took another moment before continuing, "why?"

"Just cause," she muttered, laying her head against the brick wall. Spirit signed, turn the bottle around a few more times before placing it between them. "Will knowing make you feel any better?" he asked, to which Liz responded with a halfhearted shrug.

"Well, I don't know the exact details of how and when you and your sis caught our attention," he began, turning his attention to the moon, "but I do know that the moment we found you two we had to react fast. The Academy didn't know if you two were the sign of an impending gangland war, a witch trying to produce kishins, or two rouge weapons causing as much mayhem as humanly possible. The point being is that you two had a large amount of unpredictability, and we didn't want to dice it. So the initial plan was to send in an investigation team to figure out what exactly was going on up there. That's when Kid volunteered to…"

"Why did Kid go?" she interjected quickly, interrupting Spirit mid-sentence. He stared at her for a few moments, trying to process her request, before shrugging his shoulders.

"Beats me. Maybe he was just looking for a way to help his old man out, maybe he was bored and lookin for a bit of action," he replied. Liz nodded and motion for him to continue. "Anyways, Kid volunteers to go up to New York to see what in the hell is going on. Long story short, he leaves by himself, and comes back with two pretty pistols." He chuckle at this, trying to lighten the mood with what could only be considered a quite terrible joke.

"What about the field report?" she asked, her tone suggesting that she wasn't in the joking mood. "I've written enough of the damn things to know that they're part of every assignment."

"Subject status: Two demon weapons. Firearm type. Teenage Females. Incredibly violent and unstable, perhaps beginning stage kishins. Recommended course of action is either immediate imprisonment or elimination," he said in a cold tone while shaking. He paused for a moment to make sure she had processed what he said. Liz's eyes were wide open from shock; she already knew that the report would something like what Spirit had just rattled off, but it still stung to hear it spoken. Biting her bottom lip again, she nodded towards Spirit to continue.

"Right, well after Kid had given the report in person, he made the request that you and your sister be assigned to him as potential partners. Not gonna lie, I was pretty shocked when he said it. Lord Death didn't seem too thrilled by it at first either, but after a little convincing from Kid and you two were put on probationary status. A status that you two are still technically on by the way," he finished with a smile, trying once again to lighten the mood between them. It didn't have much effect on the sullen teen's mood though.

"So, what you're saying is that by all rights we shouldn't be having this conversation right now," she finally spoke, her voice low and melancholy. She tucked her head under her arms, wishing that her brain would just shut down and become as empty as the sky. But it was a futile attempt because, for Liz, tonight was the night that the universe would kindly remind her of all her past failures, and she was in no short supply of that. Simply, she was at a loss of what do next. There was no action she could take or words she could speak that would improve her situation or even justify her existence. So, for what felt like the sixth time tonight, she did the only thing she was capable of. She cried. No, sobbed was a better term. All that pent up rage; towards the world, towards her mother, and especially towards herself, came flowing out and she didn't bother to put up even a token resistance to confined her tears. During her breakdown, she felt a hand plant itself firmly on her shoulders. She didn't pay it much mind, but it provided a small amount of comfort all the same. She bawled for a good long while before she looked up to see how her companion was doing. His hand was still on her shoulder, but his gaze was fixated on the night sky, as if he was trying to find his own answer up there, just like Liz before him.

[Didn't have much luck with that, so good luck buddy,] she thought to herself, a small smile crept as she gave a small chuckle. This stirred Spirit from his trace, as he turned his gaze upon the troubled teen.

"Feelin' a bit better now cowgirl?" he asked, his face breaking into his natural goofy grin. Liz nodded as she dried her eyes with her duster sleeves. Spirit nodded in response and used the hand that was on Liz's shoulder to push himself up onto his feet.

"So, that mean you're ready to get moving then?" he asked as he offered a hand up, to which Liz gladly accepted. With one fluid motion, he helped her up to her feet, and Liz promptly crashed into him and sent to both of them tumbling down to the ground. Liz mumbled what sound like an apology into Spirit's chest as she rolled off of him, giggling all the while.

"Been awhile since I had to roll of a guy," she said, still giggling away as she stumbled to her feet. After Spirit reoriented him-self on the ground, he managed to stand back up, how-be-it more gracefully than what Liz had done. He stared at his younger companion, who at this point was swaying like tree limbs in a gentle breeze, and she had a smile on her face that said that the lights were on, but the owner stepped out for a minute. He chuckled to himself at the sight.

"Yep, I say you had just about enough," he said as he took her by the hand and slung her arm over his shoulders to help stabilize her before speaking again, "let's get you back home."

"Spirit, when you said you like them young I wasn't expecting the young enough to send you to jail kind," came a distinctively feminine and sultry voice. The pair looked around to see where the voice had come from, but they couldn't locate the speaker. Within a few moments, a little dark purple cat with a funny, pointed hat bounded into view, looking kind of aggravated, glaring up at Spirit. Spirit's gaze met the cat's eyes and he realized within a moment who it was, and some of the color drained from his face.

"Oh hey there Blair, how's Daddy's Sexy Lil Kit…." He never got a chance to finish as Blair quickly interrupted any attempts of sweet talk. "Don't Sexy Lil Kitten me, Spirit! I waited over an hour for you and your 'special surprise.' I cooked a nice fish dinner and everything! You better have a good reason for bailing out, and fooling around with another girl better not be it!"

Spirit zoned out for a moment, processing Blair's word, hoping that he could find something within them that he could say to contain her fury before it reached the breaking point, which in this case meant claws being introduced. It only took that moment to come up with a response, but it was more along the lines of him freaking out than trying to calm Blair down.

"Wa…wha…NO! That is not… how can…. you see… not like…. I swear this…. What happen is…" Spirit blundered as Blair transformed into her human form, complete with the usual street walker attire. She walked up to Spirit, who was still attempting to string a coherent sentence together, and poked him in the chest. His inane babbling ceased at once as he felt the cold, hard stare of the cat witch on him. She glared at him for a few more second before she let out a sigh.

"Spiiiiirit," she said as her expression soften, a bit of a whine in her voice, "I know you said you wanted to surprise me, but we agreed that we would discuss it first before we brought in another person. I won't object to a ménage a trois, but I would've liked a say so. Plus, isn't she a little young? I mean, she's pretty and all, but she can't be much older than your daughter. Speaking of, I don't think Maka would approve of you having 'relations' with one of her schoolmates." As she finished all the color left his face as his jaw dropped and his eyes widen in horror. Blair tilted her head in confusion, poking Spirit continuously in the chest, trying to provoke a response from him.

"Heh, I think ya broke him," Liz said, causing Blair to turn towards her and nod in agreement, and they both shared a giggle over it. "Yeah, he gets like this sometimes, but if you poke him in juuusst the right place, you can get him going again. Doesn't seem to be working this time, but then again I usually poke a bit lower." Once again, the two were giggly at Spirit's expense, who was still booting up higher brain .

After the two of them had calm down, Blair proceeded to look Liz up and down, and a cat like grin started to spread across her face. As Liz started to use her own head tilt of confusion, or attempt at least given her current state, Blair started to speak, "You'll do nicely. It looks like he already got you all warmed up which is a bit of a shame, because I purrfer my playthings nice and fresh." Liz thought about Blair's words for a moment, only to burst out laughing. It was quite impressive that Spirit could still balance the both of them while he was rebooting and with her almost doubling over with laughter.

"OH, Gawd, y…you th-think th…that h…" she attempted to but words together as she was going through a laughing fit. It wasn't long before she had calm downed to finish, "Wooo, I needed that. Anyhow, you're kinda missin' some context. Nothing like…that happen." Blair's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a subtle way of calling bull on Liz's words, to which Liz responded by shaking her head.

"I ain't pulling your leg. Death Scythe ran across me while I was over by that wall trying to find the answer at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, so we sat down and had a talk over a bottle," she said as she pointed to the spot that they were both where, the bottle still sitting where Spirit had left it. Blair looked to where she was pointed and nodded, but then asked, "So, where did you get alcohol?"

"Um, well, I kinda-sorta said that I was buying it for Lord Death, and used the ID card with his insignia on the back," she said as she scratched the back of her head with her free arm, trying and failing not to look more guilty than she already was. Blair let out a soft laugh, saying, "My my, such a naughty little girl; sneaking out pass curfew, underage drinking, illegal purchase of alcohol, and public intoxication. If I didn't know any better, it sounds like you're begging for punishment."

"You gonna belt me mom," Liz slur slightly in a sarcastic manner, to which Blair replied with, "I just might, so I wouldn't tempt me if I was you." They stood silent for a moment before they both burst into laughter again. After they had calm down, they both turned their attention towards Spirit, who was still frozen in place.

"A bit overdramatic isn't he," Blair said as she started poking him in the chest again, and after a few failed attempts at stirring him she slapped him right in the face. He let out a small cry as he glared at Blair, his eye's tearing up.

"Oh good, your awake now. So, what's the plan with the kid, or we going to wait here till the police show up and we end up on the morning news?" Blair asked as Spirit regained his composer and wiped his eyes with his free hand. He looked at Liz and then at Blair before saying, "Well, we can't take her back to the manor like this without explaining what happen, and that wouldn't be good for anyone here. And we can't go to my apartment, because that would be…just as bad. And I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the night with Stein do you?"

"Hell no, I rather wait for the police to show up. At least they'll let me keep my liver," Liz said, shaking her head in protest of having to spend even a few hours alone at the Stein residence. Spirit nodded in acknowledgement to this before Blair spoke up again, "you know you could drop her off at where I live. The couch is open."

"Wait; don't you live with Maka and Soul?" Liz asked, thinking to herself on how see didn't want to share this night with even more people. Blair shrugged, saying, "Well technically yes, but as a cat I would like to think that they live with me. But hey, those are small technicalities." Spirit's face was scrunched up in concentration while the other two were bantering back and forth on who really owned the apartment, and he finally let out a sigh of defeat.

"Yeah, that sounds like the best option we have at the moment," he said as the other two turned their attention back to him before he continued, "Besides, I haven't met my 'Maka Disappointing Look' quota yet, so may as well help the numbers along." He readjusted himself and Liz before walking towards his daughter's and her partner's place, Liz following right beside him. Spirit shot a look back at Blair and said, "Any time you want to lend hand babe, no hurries on my end."

Blair let out a huff as she walked up to the other side of Liz and slung Liz's other arm over her shoulders, and the three were off, trying not to draw attention to themselves as best they could considering the circumstances. Not that it matter much to Elizabeth; perhaps due to lack of sleep, the alcohol catching up to her, the ups and downs of her emotions tonight, or a combination of the three, she couldn't remember the route they took or when they got there. She shut her brain down and turned her body on auto pilot.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Liz finally came to, she was on a couch in a small living room, her duster draped over her like a blanket. She motion to sit up but quickly laid back down, clutching her head and winching in pain.

"Damn," she griped to no one in particular as she shut her eyes, hoping the pain would subside. She heard footsteps coming her way followed by a voice saying, "Oh good, you're up."

Liz opened her eyes to see that it was Blair in a bright pink nighty, smiling sweetly and holding a glass of water in one hand and two pills in the other. Blair spoke again, saying as softly as she could, "here you go dear; this should help with the headache." Liz sat up again, slowly this time, and accepted the offering of sweet sweet pain relief. She took a few moments to gather herself as she took the meds, trying to remember how she got to…wherever she was at right now.

"So, just where in the hell am I," she growled as she looked around, hoping that a little angry would repress the pounding pain in her head.

"Gee, a little appreciation would kill you right now, wouldn't it," Blair asked in a slightly annoyed tone, upset that her kind gesture went unnoticed by the hung-over teen.

"It just mi…." she started to reply sarcastically, but realize why the cat-lady was irked and changed her tone, "Sorry, thank you…um…"

"Its Blair hon, and you're welcome. See, you didn't die now did you?" Blair said with a grin as Liz nodded. They both sat there in silence as Liz looking around Soul and Maka's apartment. She had been here before during a get together with the entire gang, and so was vaguely familiar with the layout of the place. [But how did I get here,] Liz wondered to herself as she tried to recall the events from last night, but Blair interrupted here pondering before she got too far.

"You've been here before right," she said rather than asked, getting Liz's attention, "so how did you forget my name? I thought I made an unfurrgetable entrance the last time you were here." Liz's paused for a moment, trying to think of when she was last here. She finally came across the memory, and busted out into a giggling fit for a split second before her brain reminded her that she was hung-over and sent a surge of pain throughout her head. She clutched her head for a moment, and they said with a smile, "Yeah, I remember it. But between Soul and Kid spazzing out, my sis rolling around laugh, and Maka getting ready to clobber someone, I had to concentrate to keep it together. Me and Blake Star were in striking range of her, and I just didn't feel like getting pummeled."

"Ok, you're off the hook," Blair giggled as she spoke, "_but_, if you forget it again, I just might have to bring the claws out." Liz looked a bit surprised by this, but her expression quickly changed to a smug smirk as she said, "Is that so…. I might have to hold ya to that." It was Blair's turn to bust out laughing.

"It's a date then," she said, her face sporting a mischievous grin now. Liz laugh silently, knowing that any noise a few decibels above quiet would cause her head to have a miniature meltdown. She looked around again, and she noticed that something distinctive was missing.

"Hey Blair, just where are the terrible twosome at," Liz asked, breaking Blair out of what look like a day dreaming haze. Blair thought for a moment before answering, "Maka said she was going to _talk_ with her dad, so it's more likely she's going to yell at him for something, probably about last night. And Soul had some errands to run, or so he says at least. He didn't look like he was into much of a hurry this morning, but the moment I mention we could spend some alone time together he bolted out the door. You think he was allergenic to pussy cats or something," she finished in a huff, like a cat whose prey got away again.

"So, they won't, um… you know, mention this to anyone will they," Liz asked with a hint of concern in her voice.

"Nah, they tend not to nose in other people's business," Blair said as she shook her head, then continued, "Make might want an explanation or something, but Soul won't bring it up again. Says it isn't cool to instigate drama, or something like that." Liz breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she could put last night behind her and forget about what happen in her past. However, just thinking about what started all that trouble caused her mood to sullen a bit. She didn't have long to dwell on it though because she felt a sharp slap across her back.

"Hey now, don't look so down. You probably want a shower cause you smell like cheap booze, sweat, and shame," Blair said, waving her hand in front of her nose in an exaggerated manner. Liz's face contorted itself into a scow as she asked in a sarcastic tone, "So, do you propose that I wear the same smelly clothes or should I just walk around in my birthday suit?"

"Now that's a sight that I wouldn't mind, but I'm outta luck. You've already got some cloths in the bathroom," Blair said as she pointed towards the bathroom. Liz was about to ask how, but Blair answered Liz's question before she ever asked, "Spirit asked me to grab you some clean cloths, soooooo I snuck into your room and grabbed what looked clean. By the way, none of my business or anything, but you might want to tidy up that place when you get back to it. It was a mess even before I got there."

Liz closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and shook her head at the irony of the situation. She mumbled a 'thank you' to Blair as she walked past to the bathroom. She looked around the bathroom trying to locate her clothes, praying that Blair didn't pick out anything that would more to the cat owns tastes. She quickly found them, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a pair of capri-cargos, a muscle shirt, pair of ankle socks and shoes, and the underwear… well, at least it looked comfortable. Anyhow, she hopped into the shower, washing away memories of last night, as well as the stench.

"Ahhhh, this feels soooo gooood," She said in a sing-song voice, feeling the hot water washing the small aches and pains away and down the drain. She spent more time under the faucet than she plan to, to the point that her skin started to prune a bit. Reluctantly, she finally stepped out of the shower and started to dry off. She had just finished drying off when she heard a knock on the door.

"Hold on a sec, I'm bout out," she said as she dressed hastily, grabbing her shoes and socks as she went to open the door.

"Hey Blair, you guys wouldn't happen to own a hair dryer would…" she said as she open the door, coming face to face with Maka Albarn, who looked kind of….peeved. Liz stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the younger teen, as if she had forgotten who Maka was.

"Sorry, but it was a casualty of the last Soul-Blair incident," Maka said flatly, returning Liz's gaze. They stood there for a few moments, neither one saying or doing anything. Finally, Maka let out a cough and said, "Um, if you're done, can I get into the bathroom please? I really need to go."

"Oh, yeah…sure," Liz said absentmindedly, moving out of the door way in a slightly dazed manner. She proceeded to amble over to the couch, sitting down to put on her shoes. She heard a door open behind her as she was lacing up her shoes, not paying much mind to the footsteps that were making their way towards her. She felt a small plop next to her, followed by a small cough to get her attention.

"You might be forgetting something important, "Maka said as Liz looked up at her, giving her a puzzled looked. Maka then held up a pair of socks, which Liz recognized as her own. Turning two different shades of red, she mumble a thanks to Maka as she took the socks from her, and then started to untie her shoes and restart the process in a manner that would make sense. While she had gotten the shoes off, she heard yet another small cough.

"You should have a doctor check out that cough, it could be fatal," Liz said in a joking manner, hoping to ease the tension between the two of them.

"I'll take my chances," she replied in the same flat tone, staring at the coffee table in front of them. Sensing that the half-hearted humor fell flat on its face, Liz went back to tying her shoes, with socks going on first this time though.

"Can I ask you a question," Maka said as Liz had finished lacing up. She nodded her head, sitting up straight while Maka took a moment to compose her question. She closed as she ask, "Did…did anything happen between you and that pervert last night?"

"Who, Blair? No, nothing beyond the standard flirting borderline sexual harassment, but I think she's that way with everyone," Liz said. Maka's face darken slightly as she replied in a serious tone, "No, I meant my dad."

"Relax Maka, nothing happen. Well, except him helping himself to half my whiskey, but that's it. Really," Liz said in a reassuring manner, hopeful that would she would drop the subject before realizing that telling someone who is a stickler for rules would not take underage drinking as reassuring.

"Oooook, so why _did you _have alcohol?" she demanded more than asked, her expression hardening into a stern teacher look. Liz closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples with both hands, feeling her headache flaring up again. Trying to think of an explanation to give to Ms. Albarn before she started lecturing, she gave up on some elaborate excuse and instead settled on the simple truth instead.

"Well, I found an old photo album with pictures of my mother in it, remember a bunch of crap I was repressing, and decided that drowning my sorrows in sweet, sweet alcohol was the best remedy. Then your dad found my drinking spot, we shared a bottle and a good cry, and here we are," Liz said, hoping now the subject would be dropped. There was a moment of quiet between the two before Liz added, "Well, your old man kinda patted me on the shoulder while I bawled my eyes out."

"Liz… is there anything you want to talk about," Maka asked, her expression changing from stern to caring in an instance. Liz shook her head and said, "Nah, not right at this moment. Let's just drop it for now. Thanks though, I appreciate it."

Silence hung in the air between the two of them now, neither one making an attempt to speak up. Getting tired of the quiet, Liz finally spoke up, "So, just out of curiosity, did I make an ass of myself when your dad and the cat drugged me in?" Maka chuckled at the question, a smirk appearing on her face.

"Depends on what you mean…. You want the short version or a play-by-play," she asked, causing Liz to bury her head in her hands. "Short version please," she said through her hands.

"Well, you guys stumbled through the door, you fell on the floor giggling like a mad women, dad trying to give a lame-ass excuse, which I guess isn't an excuse at this point, and you told me in a not so polite way to stop being a stick in the mud," Maka said in a sing-song like fashion, her smirk breaking out into a face splitting grin. Liz looked up from her hands to ask, "Stick in the…wait, so do you mean I called you a bitch? If so, I'm really sorry bout that."

"No, that would've still been nice comparatively to what you said," Maka chirped. Liz thought for a moment about what the mystery offending word was, and then it dawned on her, and her face proceeded to turn four shade of red due to embarrassment and guilt. Maka hummed triumphantly, satisfied in sending her friend on a guilt trip.

"Why are you looking so smug," Liz finally asked, her face starting to turn a more normal shade. Maka responded sweetly, "Well, I didn't want to make a liar out of you, so I thought I should act the part." Liz thought about snapping at Maka, but started to laugh instead. Maka tilted her head, wondering what was so funny while Liz wrapped her arm around Maka's shoulders and shook her a little.

"Damn, I didn't know you could be so _spiteful,_" she said after she had stopped laughing, her arm still wrapped around Maka's shoulders. She giggled in response, obviously satisfied with herself. Liz removed her arm from around Maka and stood up from the couch, offering her a hand up, to which she gladly accepted.

"Anyways, we're supposed to meet up with the rest of the gang down by the coffee shop near the park. Oh, and we were running errands for my dad this morning; he asked me to and I roped you in because you were around. That's the excuse we're using at least," Maka said as she was making her way towards the front door with Liz right behind her. Liz nodded, and before they stepped outside she asked, "Hey, could I bum a hair tie off of you please?"

Maka pointed towards the bathroom, saying, "Yeah, I have some on the top shelve of the medicine cabinet. You could also drop the towel off while you're at it." She pointed to the towel still wrapped around Liz's head, causing the older teen to reach up to her head and blush in embarrassment when she realized that the towel was still there.

"Oh, um…sorry about that. I'm not all here today," she said as she doubled back to the bathroom. She tossed the towel towards an empty hamper, making it in. She celebrated with a small fist pump, glad that at least one thing went right today, but it was a celebration too soon for the moment she turned to open the medicine cabinet above the sink, a small bottle of some sort bonked her right on the head.

"Yep, everything is right with the world again," she said sarcastically as she picked up the bottle to put it back in its original resting spot before looking for the hair ties. She immediately spotted them in a clear cup of some sort, and picked out a dull purple on. She rejoined Maka at the door as she was tying her hair into a low ponytail, just enough to keep her hair out of the way for today.

"Keeping it simple today," Maka asked as they both exited the apartment, with Liz only shrugging out a response. Liz was looking around, trying to adjust to the mid-morning light, and attempting to guess what time it was. Quickly giving up, she asked Maka for the time.

"Um, about eleven last time I checked the clock," she said. Liz shook her head in response, saying, "Damn it's that late already. How long was I out?" It was Maka's turn to shrug, unsure of what time her unexpected guest arrived last night.

"Doesn't really matter now, just askin' out of curiosity is all," Liz said as they both made their way down the stairs and onto the streets below, heading off towards the meeting place. The streets were their usual hustle and bustle; peddlers hawking their goods, construction workers toiling away in the desert heat, and children pulling their parents one way and the other. Just another normal day in Death City. While Liz was looking around taking in the sights, she spotted Blair on in the distance at a fish stall, flirting with the monger. She caught Liz out of the corner of her eye and waved at her, and Liz waved back in kind. Liz then saw Blair turn to the fish monger and it look like she was whispering something, and then blood erupted out of his nose and he fell back first onto the ground, causing Liz to bust out laughing.

"What's so funny," Maka ask as she turned to Liz, who was barely keeping pace due to almost falling over with laughter. "HAHAH, AHH OH GOD, HA, WHa… What's she, Ahh haha, wooo," Liz struggled to say. Maka gave her a concern look as Liz took a moment to catch her breath and compose herself.

"Ok, whew, I needed that. I'm good now," Liz said. Maka cocked her eyebrow and asked, "So you gonna tell me or are we playing twenty questions now?" Liz's mind went blank for a second, trying to figure out what she was asking about, and then remembered what brought on the laughing fit and almost went into a second one.

"Oh, oh yeah, heh heh, about that. I saw Blair trying to con a fish dinner out of some poor fella, and to make a long story short, she pointed our way and the guy passed out. She might have promised a three way or something." she said as she wiped a tear from her eye, bumping into Maka by accident.

"Oops, sorry, wasn't paying….attention," Liz said, hesitating near the end. Maka had stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide with horror and her mouth hanging open. Liz waved a hand in front of Maka's face, and nothing happen.

"Wow, just like her old man. Can totally see the family resemblance now," she said as she angled her hand under Maka's mouth, and promptly closed it for her. This snapped Maka out of her system shutdown, and she glared at Liz. She shrugged her shoulders, saying, and "Darling, you don't want a bug flying into your mouth now. Anyways, you alright or should I remind on standby?"

"I think I need brain bleach now," Maka said in disgust as she shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts of whatever Blair may or may not have said. Liz giggled at Maka's over exaggerated actions, prompting another glare from the young teen. Liz shook her head and smiled, saying, "Alright, alright, it's nothing to get too torn up about. Anyways, we should get moving before they send out a search party."

Thus the pair were off again, Liz humming to herself and Maka fiddling with her hands in her hoodie pocket, both idly bantering here and there as they neared their destination. When they had turned onto the street next to the park Liz knew they were close to where the rest of the gang was waiting.

"That way leads directly to the coffee shop," Liz said, pointing towards an empty alleyway. She turned onto it, Maka right behind her. Liz could smell the aroma of coffee beans and baked good combining into a welcoming and delicious mixture. It was little wonder that a lot of the students spent their off hours here. Liz's mouth was watering as she was deciding on what she was going to order that she didn't hear what Maka had said, and only snapped out of her café induced trance when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Can I talked to you for a second," Maka asked as Liz stopped. She turned around to face her younger friend, and a motion for Maka to continue. She took a moment to ponder what she was going say and then asked, "Are you alright?"

"Well, besides waking up with a hangover and knowing that a perverted cat rummaged through my clothes, I'm peachy," she said wryly as she leaned against a brick wall, knowing full well that answer wasn't going to satisfy the ever inquisitive meister. Maka let out a long, low sigh, shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant," she said in a slightly exasperated tone. She looked around, trying to find words better suited to her line of questioning. She looked like she finally found the words she was looking for, but Liz spoke up before she got a chance to ask.

"Look, I appreciate the concern and all, but I'm a fouled mouth, bad tempered daughter of a whore who spent years holding people at gunpoint just to survived. What I'm saying is that I've got more issues than thirty minutes of walk-talk therapy can work through," she said in a somewhat harsh tone. Maka was about to say something, but instead lowered her head as she mumbled out an apology that Liz couldn't really hear. Liz, sensing that she had gone too far, walked towards Maka and embraced her in a one armed hug.

"Hey, I'll make ya a deal. Next time I decide to hit the bottle, I'll come get you first so you can nag me about it. Hell, we can even share," Liz said with a grin. Maka looked up and nodded.

"It's a deal."


End file.
